Off the Bus
by PKNight
Summary: AU. Literati. Jess never came to Stars Hollow. ***Complete***
1. Prologue

Off The Bus 

Prologue

Lorelai broke away from work and ran towards the diner…well, hurried towards the diner. She couldn't be expected to run in heels. She pushed open the door, letting the smell of good food and coffee waft over her before turning to the harried man behind the counter.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"You called the bus station?"

"Yeah," he muttered as he got her a cup of coffee.

"Did you call your sister?"

He scoffed, and looked utterly disgusted. "I tried for days. When she calls me, since she never answers the phone, she says not to worry about him. She says he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. What does he know? He's just a seventeen-year-old kid. He's never had a job, he's never had to fend for himself."

"Well," Lorelai said, dragging the word out. Luke glowered at her, but didn't expect her to stop talking for any reason. She didn't disappoint him. "Maybe not. I don't know. I'm not really one to talk about not running away, am I? And I had no job, had never had to fend for myself. He's even older than I was."

"Yeah but you're…you," Luke finally said. "You know what you have to do. Besides, you had Rory, who was definitely incentive to take care of yourself. What if he ends up dead in the gutter? We'll never know about it."

"So you should call the police. It's been three days. That's more than enough time for them to file a missing person's report."

"What if I do? He left the damn note." And he vividly remembered when the bus driver had found it in the vacant seat. "I'm not a kid. I'll do what I want. And what I want is to be left alone." It had been tersely signed, Jess.

Lorelai watched her best friend, knowing he was remembering, knowing he was torn. He wanted to drag the kid back by the scruff of the neck, but knew it would be next to impossible to find him. "At least we know he's not on any busses," Lorelai said. "So, he's probably stationary, wherever he is."

"Or he's is hitchhiking his way across the country," Luke said darkly. "There's a million things that he could be doing right now, and none of them involve being anywhere he's gonna get caught."

"Luke, this isn't your fault," Lorelai said, and went behind the counter to give him a hug. 

He waited until she'd pulled away before saying, "Yeah, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Lorelai—"

"Tell me how this could possibly be your fault."

"Liz sent the kid to me."

"Yes, but you didn't want her to. You were going to take him in, but you didn't want to. That doesn't make it your fault."

"I coulda gone to New York to pick him up."

"Though I would have paid money to see you in New York, there's no guarantee he would have shown up there, either," Lorelai countered.

"I could have called to check on his progress."

"You're not omniscient," Lorelai told him. "Face it Luke, you're not Andy Richter; you can't control the universe."

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to stop trying to fix everything. There are some things that aren't fixable. Your nephew might be one of them." She laid a hand on his arm. "Are you okay? Are you going to call the police?"

"And have them haul the kid back in chains, just to watch him walk away again?" he shook his head resignedly. "He inherited a little too much from his father, apparently," he added bitterly. "Though his mother was never one for sticking around when things got tough."

"Luke," Lorelai said, trying not to take offense to his words. How could she fault Jess for doing the exact same thing she'd done? Though she saw what this was doing to Luke, so she could resent him for that. "I think you're doing the right thing."

Luke laughed shortly, bitterly. "Yeah, thanks. I'll be sure to note that every time I hear about a John Doe in the morgue."

Lorelai sighed, but knew she had to get back to work. She leaned up and kissed Luke on the cheek then said goodbye and left the diner.

__

At Sookie and Jackson's Wedding:

"So…you heard?" Rory asked, watching her mother inhale her alcoholic drink like she was suffocating.

"Yeah, I heard," she said, trying not to sound bitter. What right did she have, she thought, to resent Christopher for finding the family he'd always wanted? _He's had his damn family for seventeen years. He never took our offer._ Part of it was her fault, she knew, but she would wallow in that fact some other time.

"And you feel how about this?"

"I'm happy for Christopher. And Sherry," she added as an afterthought. "And I can just picture how the tabloids will shell out to see that miniscule woman pregnant, fat, and with swollen ankles." She grinned momentarily at the thought.

"At least you can be happy in your vindictiveness," Rory said lightly, making sure her mother knew she didn't mean it.

"Eh," Lorelai said. "What's life if you can't be a little vindictive sometimes?"

"Oh!" Rory shoved the bouquet into Lorelai's hands. "That's the music! Our cue!" 

Lorelai cried during the ceremony. She knew she would. The problem was, she had about thirteen jokes going through her head about Jackson's kilt, and she was having trouble containing them all. She decided she had to save them and tell them to Rory when Sookie and Jackson were already out of town for their honeymoon. That was the only recourse, when she knew Jackson would kill her.

The reception was wonderful, and because they kept Dean hidden away on the other side of the house from Miss Patty and Babette, no harm was done to anyone. Everyone had a wonderful time. Except Lorelai. Everywhere she looked were couples, couples, and more couples. Sookie and Jackson, Rory and Dean, Babette and Morey, hell, even her parents. Even in her head, couples were spinning, Christopher and Sherry, Max and the woman Rory had heard about through the school grapevine, which she'd been reluctant to divulge.

"Hey," someone said from behind her, and she turned with relief to her best friend, her _single_ best friend.

"Wow," she said, taking in the suit he wore. "That just doesn't look quite the same in different settings, does it?" she asked of his suit. It was the same one he'd worn to his uncle's funeral, but in this less intimate setting, he looked a little more festive. And she hated to admit it, but she almost wished he'd kept the baseball hat on.

"It feels different. I saw that your drink was empty, thought you could use another one." He took the empty glass from her hand and pressed a take-out cup of coffee in its place. She smiled up at him as she took her first sip, and watched as he smiled back.

"Why haven't we ever gone out, Luke?" she asked suddenly.

Luke froze, then glanced around nervously. "Uh," he said, clearing his throat. He still sounded slightly choked when he said, "I, uh, don't know."

"I mean, we've been on a first-name basis for, what? Nine, ten years?"

"You mean when you called me Duke?" 

Lorelai winced. "Okay. Make it seven, eight years?"

"That seems about right," Luke conceded, not looking at her.

"So how come you've never asked me out?"

Luke shrugged.

"Come on, Luke," Lorelai said, admitting she was probably a little drunk, and was probably talking more than even she should. But she couldn't stop. "Please? You gotta tell me. 'Cause there's obviously something wrong with me," she added, almost to herself. She shook her head. "I mean, I can't keep a guy, even with a kid between us."

"Lorelai," Luke said, almost sharply. She looked up at him, startled. "I won't hear you talk about yourself like that. You are the most…" he trailed off, looking at her so piercingly that she had the nervous feeling he was almost looking through her. "You're courageous, smart, funny, beautiful, and a wonderful friend. I can't think of anyone else who would have stuck by me and helped me the way you did when my nephew didn't show, or when my uncle died."

"Then why can't I have one of those?" she demanded, pointing at Jackson, at Sookie's side laughing with guests.

"You want a kilt?" Luke asked skeptically. 

It made her laugh, when she hadn't expected to be in the mood to laugh. "No. I want…a man, I guess. I don't necessarily think I want a husband, or even a boyfriend. I don't know."

Luke pulled her into a more private place. "Lorelai, how much have you had to drink?"

"A couple of glasses of some fruity cocktail-y thing, why?"

"Because. I want to make sure you'll remember this," he said, just before he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips.

She froze. This was Luke. This was _Luke_ kissing her, gently, tenderly, as if he wanted to wrap her in cotton and protect her forever. As if she was something to be treasured.

She liked it. 

Her arms went around his neck, pulling his body against hers. The kiss stayed gentle, light. And it was killing Luke. He'd wanted her for years, loved her for less time, but certainly no less fervently. With great reluctance, he made his body tilt backwards, until only her arms around his neck and his arms lightly holding her waist connected them.

"Wow," she said softly, staring up at him. Dazed, happy. And slightly drunk.

"Why don't we talk about this some other time?" Luke asked.

"No, let's talk about it now," Lorelai said. "Better yet, let's not talk at all for a while."

"Lorelai," Luke said, holding her off with more effort than he thought it would take. "We can't. You're tipsy."

"I'm not drunk," she said, slightly offended.

"No, you're not. You're just not in full control. But you will remember this." He was sure of that. "And we'll talk some other time."

He slipped out of her hold and climbed down the steps. He said a terse, "Congratulations," to the happy couple, and then headed for his apartment.

Lorelai watched him go, fondly exasperated, and slightly dreamy. Who knew he could kiss like that? Rachel was a complete idiot. "Oh, yeah," she murmured to herself. "We'll definitely talk about it later."


	2. Off the Bus

__

About Two Months Later, in Boston: 

The sounds of the construction site had grown familiar to him over the last eleven months. The nail guns, the hammers, the screwdrivers all contributed to the medley of sounds that meant he was earning money. It was a new experience for him, and one he was glad of.

When he'd come to Boston, he'd been a runaway. He'd had no place to stay, no money, and very few belongings. All that he had left in the world was carried over his shoulder in an army surplus rucksack. He hung around the parks for a few days, then realized that he had to get more money. So he had to find a job. The first place he went was a construction company. The supervisor didn't care that he didn't have an address, he just cared that he showed up in time for work. And he did. 

The first paycheck he received, he moved in to a youth hostel. He worked out an arrangement with the owners that he could stay there as long as he needed to, as long as he pulled his weight like every other resident. So, for fifteen dollars a night, he had a bed, a bathroom, and dinner. It saved him a lot of money, and he was saving up for the rent on an apartment.

On his lunch break, the supervisor didn't care what he did. Mostly, he hung to the back of the site and read books. The small sandwich he bought every day on the way to work was gobbled up quickly, leaving him plenty of time to relax and read.

He heard footsteps approaching but didn't look up until someone said, "Uh, hey." He looked up from The Old Man and the Sea to find another member of the crew standing in front of him holding a lunch pail. "I'm Quentin Novak."

"Jess Mariano." They shook hands briefly. Jess admittedly wasn't a social person, so he didn't really have much chance to talk to his fellow laborers. But he was sure he'd have noticed the hair color before. The guy, Quentin, looked to be about his age, and had green hair, multiple piercings in his ears and a ring through his eyebrow.

"Mind if I sit here?" Quentin asked, gesturing at an overturned bucket nearby.

"Nah," Jess answered. Quentin sat, and took out a sandwich.

He took a bite. "I saw you yesterday listening to a Discman."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Mine is kinda dead. I was wondering if you have any extra batteries?"

"Nope," Jess shook his head. "I don't. Mine's dead, too."

"Bummer," Quentin remarked. He took another bite of his sandwich. Jess went back to reading. After a while, Quentin asked, "What are you reading?" Without a word, Jess flipped the book until the other guy could see the title. "Whoa," Quentin said, suitably impressed. "Heavy. You reading that for school?"

Jess shook his head. "No school to read it for. I just like Hemingway."

"Oka-aaaay," Quentin said. After a few moments he asked, "Got any more books?"

"Not on me," Jess said. "And not all that many with me. I need to find a good used book store."

"My sister works at a good one about a mile from here," Quentin told him around a mouthful of cheese and bologna.

Now he had Jess' attention. "Really? What's it called?"

"The Reader's Rummage. Here, I'll give you the address." Jess pulled a pencil from behind his ear and prepared to write the address on the title page. "Thanks," Jess said, looking appraisingly at the other guy for a long moment. "I owe you one."

"Nah," he said. "It's really self-serving. The more customers, the more my sister is occupied at the store. The less I have to chauffeur her around." At Jess' wry grin he asked, "You have any sisters?"

"Not unless there's something my dad hasn't told me," he said. "But, then I haven't spoken to the man in almost three years."

"Yikes," Quentin said, leaning back. "Sorry, man. What about your mom?"

"She's in New York."

"Ah," Quentin said, and left it at that. "Hey, you got a ride?"

"No. I walk. Why?"

"Well, I need to stop at the shop after work. I could give you a ride over, if you wanted."

Jess wavered. Getting books…cheap books, but at the expense of having to possibly let someone get to know him. He'd been getting along very well without anyone, and there was always the chance his mom had put out some kind of runaway report. But…books. And he really hated to admit it, but he was feeling a little lonely lately. It would be nice to have someone his own age to talk to, occasionally. "Yeah, sure," he said before he could think about it any longer. "That sounds good."

"Meet you here after work?" Quentin grinned. Just then the buzzer went off, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Back to work," he said.

"Guess so," Jess replied, standing also.

*****

That afternoon, Jess walked into the bookstore and immediately froze to look around. He'd never seen such disarray of books before in his life. There were books of every conceivable size, shape and color shelved seemingly randomly.

He barely registered Quentin and his sister bickering. "Quen-tin!" she whined, dragging out the syllables. "Why can't you at least shower before you come in here?"

"Well, because you'd miss my manly odor," Quentin replied, lowering his voice mockingly. Jess heard an ear-piercing squeal a second later.

"Get off me, you sweaty pig! Jeez! I still have to work four more hours, and I don't want to do it smelling like you!" Jess turned to see Quentin with a smaller girl in a headlock. Her pale blonde hair was scrunched around her head like a lion's mane, and she was contorting her features in her effort to get away. She was shorter than her brother by six inches.

When she finally managed to wrench herself out of her brother's grasp, she danced back several steps, almost crashing into Jess. "Oh!" she said, turning suddenly. "I'm sorry! I didn't see you there! Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah. You can tell me what tornado hit your store."

"Oh, that." She laughed nervously, and began looking around the front room. "Yeah, it does get a little…haphazard."

"To say the least," Jess said. "How do you actually find anything?"

"Oh, I handle all our processing, so I remember everything we've got."

Jess raised his eyebrow, challenged. He named a book he'd wanted to read for a long time, but hadn't been able to find in the library system. "Kill Me Now?"

"The oral history of the punk movement." She appraised Jess approvingly. "Interesting taste you've got. Yeah, we have a copy of that. Here." She lead the way into a second room. It was hazardous: bookshelves were placed so there was barely enough room to move between them, and there were large coffee-table books sticking out of various shelves to smack an unsuspecting browser in the shoulder.

Quentin's sister led Jess straight to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase against a wall, reached up to the third shelf and plucked a volume out from between two large hardbacks. "Here you go. Compact paperback edition."

"That…was incredible," Jess said, taking the book from her. "How on earth did you find this book like that?"

"Practice." She shrugged. "I shelved that one when it came in four months ago, and it didn't move to my knowledge."

Quentin spoke from somewhere in the stacks behind them. "Quinn, this is Jess. He works with me."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Quentin…and Quinn?" Jess asked skeptically. Quentin emerged from the maze of shelves in time to hear that question.

"We're twins," they said in chorus. Then they exchanged looks out of the corner of their eyes. "Not that we look it," Quinn continued. "He got a growth spurt and had a bit of an attitude adjustment and went punk. I'm still just the way I've always been. But he had to dye his hair and get all those piercings." She shuddered. "I don't even have my ears pierced."

Jess shrugged. "I never wanted to do any of that, myself. Not a very colorful person."

Quinn gestured at his wardrobe, jeans and a white T-shirt. "I kind of guessed that."

"Yeah," Jess said, and shifted uncomfortably. "So…how much for the book?"

"Two."

"Dollars?"

"Yeah."

Jess swallowed his cheers. "Are they all priced like that?"

"Like what?"

"Less than a third of the cover price?"

Quinn smiled. "Yeah. Mostly, these are third-hand books; some are taken by the box load from garage sales. Plus, the owner is an eccentric rich old bird who doesn't need the money from this place as income. She trusts me to give the books away at a reasonable price and to good homes."

"I'll take it," Jess said eagerly. 

Quinn smiled. "I thought you would." She led him to the cash register. "Two dollars, thirteen cents, please."

He fished out two dollar-bills and a quarter, and pocketed the change. He smirked down at his new book. "I've been wanting to read this forever."

"Then it works out well for all of us, doesn't it?" Quinn asked. She turned to her brother. "They're showing The Princess Bride at the Cheap Seats. Pick me up after I get off work?"

"Yeah. That'll give me enough time to shower, change, and get something to eat."

"What's the Cheap Seats?" Jess asked.

Quentin smiled. "This great video store. They have a weekly movie that they project on their back wall. Seats are a buck each, but they gouge you for popcorn and drinks. It usually draws a good crowd, so we've got to get there early. Why? Wanna come?"

Jess thought it over. "Well, if I get my chores done, I should be able to go."

"Chores?" Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Your parents have you doing chores?"

"Not my parents. The hostel I'm staying at." 

Quentin and Quinn stared at him. "How long have you been living at a hostel?"

"A while. It's fifteen dollars a night, plus chore duty."

"Where is this hostel?" Quinn asked.

"Between here and the site. I actually picked it because of its proximity to work."

"Huh," Quentin said. "Well, then, do you want to meet here at nine?"

"Sure," Jess said.

"Me, too. Now scoot, both of you." She shooed them out of the store as another customer came in, and she greeted him smoothly.

"Interesting," Jess said. "Just looking at her, I wouldn't have said she was a day over fourteen."

"Yeah. She's kind of small. Hey, so I'll see you here at nine? The movie starts at ten, barring delays."

"Sounds great. See you later."

"Yeah. Later."

*****

He entered the hostel and went back to the office. "Mrs. Poitier?" he asked, knocking on the half-open door.

"Yes, dear?" asked the middle-aged woman who ran the hostel.

"I'm going out tonight, so I was wondering if I could do my chore now, instead of after dinner."

"Oh, yes, of course, dear. What chore are you doing?"

"Bathroom."

"You're too nice for your own good, young man. Don't think I don't know why you take bathroom duty every day. You should let some of the other kids handle that mess, you know. But you're too considerate. Don't you dare deny it, either. Just go on, and get to work. You know where the supplies are," she said, and went back to sit at her desk.

Jess left, feeling his cheeks burning. He liked bathroom duty. Honestly, he did. At least he tolerated it. He wasn't doing it to be nice.

He grumbled all the way through his shower and cleaning duty. When he was done, he lay out on his bunk and read the book he'd gotten for a steal—not literally, this time.

He was halfway through the book before one of his roommates came in. Bruce was an outspoken Australian who was in the states on a quasi-vacation with his girlfriend, who had to stay on the other side of the hostel in the girl's quarters.

"'Ello!" Bruce said, dropping his backpack on the bed next to Jess'. "Readin' again, eh? You're gonna get eye strain."

"Thanks for the tip," Jess said without looking up.

"No problem, mate. You just gonna sit here all night readin'? Or you actually gonna go out and do somethin' fun?"

"I'm going to a movie later," Jess said, trying to get the guy to take a hint and move on.

"Atta boy! I don't think I've seen you do anything but read since I got here. And mouth off to me."

"I wouldn't have to mouth off if you wouldn't talk," Jess grumbled.

Bruce lay out on his bed. "I wouldn't have to talk so much if you'd just be sociable, mate," he said, proving that his hearing was better than anyone thought.

"I'm not a sociable person, Bruce," Jess said, glancing momentarily at the rangy blonde. "I never pretended to be one. I never will pretend to be one."

"Eh, don't mind him," said a feminine voice from the doorway. "'E's just grouchy 'cause I don't want to go clubbing tonight." Bruce's girlfriend Jenny came into the room. "Sorry, Jess," she said, grabbing Bruce by the hand and hauling him to his feet. "Come on, boy. We've got more sightseeing to do. I have to finish that paper on colonialism in America v. colonialism in Australia."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Bruce grumbled as she led him out.

"And silence once again descends," Jess mumbled, then sunk back into the book. Other than occasionally making notations in the margins he barely moved for three hours. Then he looked at his watch and realized he only just had enough time to meet Quinn and Quentin.

He went out the door and down the streets. He hated being late. It was such a cliché to be "fashionably late." Enough of his dates back in New York had used that excuse to make him thoroughly sick of the idea.

"Just in time!" Quinn said, closing the door behind her and locking it. She hooked her keys onto her belt loop and looked up and down the street. "Now, if only Sheila would be on time for once…."

Quentin waved a greeting at Jess from his position leaning against his car. "Sheila is always late," he told his sister. "You should know this by now."

"Sheila?" Jess asked, unaware that there would be a fourth party.

"Her girlfriend." Quentin said the words casually, but he watched Jess like a hawk. Quentin thought Jess would be okay with Quinn being gay, but you never knew. Jess just shrugged.

"As long as we can get seats for the movie, I don't care if she's a little late." 

"We're meeting my date there, too," Quentin said. "You okay with that?"

"Well, I might be feeling like a bit of a fifth wheel, but okay. As long as you guys aren't making out during the movie—which I consider rude beyond belief—it shouldn't matter too much."

A raven-haired girl about Jess' height strode towards them. She held up her hands, and said, "I'm not late. Don't even say I'm late. It's nine o'clock exactly by my watch. It's not my fault our clocks aren't synchronized." Quinn went over and squinted at the proffered watch. Then she sighed.

"Fine. You're not late." They kissed hello, and then climbed into the back seat of Quentin's car. "Sheila, this is Jess. He works with my brother, and is apparently a major bibliophile."

"Oh, not another one!" Sheila groaned. "Save me from bookworms!"

"Nice to meet you, too, Sheila," Jess said, smiling slightly.

They met Quentin's girlfriend at the video place. To Jess it looked a bit like his favorite record store in New York, one of the only places he missed; too cluttered, but organized logically. Unlike the bookstore. Quentin's girlfriend was Helen, and she was taller than Quentin by a few inches, with bright red hair that couldn't be anything but natural. She didn't talk much, though whether that was Jess' prescience or general shyness, he didn't know.

All five of them sat through the movie, Sheila mouthing the lines along with every character. "That's kind of eerie," Jess remarked afterwards. "How many times have you seen that movie?"

"About forty billion," Sheila said. She put her arm around Quinn's shoulders before saying, "I swear, if I was going for men, Wesley would be the one for me."

"I prefer Inigo, myself," Helen said shyly. "He's got that brooding thing down to an art."

"I wish they had some female characters other than Buttercup," Jess said idly. "She's such a ninny. I prefer a girl who can take care of herself sometimes."

"Besides," Quinn said. She adopted an English accent as she said, "Her breasts were not that impressive." To the questioning looks she got she said, "Come on! Someone has got to recognize that quote besides me!" As one they shook their heads. "The Ferris. A Knight's Tale. Oh, go away."

"She likes quoting things," Sheila explained to Jess. "But she's not very good at finding recognizable quotes."

"I do fine," she grumbled, folding her arms over her chest. Sheila merely patted her arm. The quintet continued talking as they filed into Quentin's car.

__

Several Months Later: 

Jess cashed his latest paycheck and then stared hard at the money. He looked at his reflection in the mirror of the hostel bathroom. He'd gotten a checking account a few months before at the twins' urgings, and, barring any serious shopping sprees, he had enough for a decent apartment.

He decided to go out and get a newspaper to start looking. He circled several options. He didn't want to live with a roommate, if at all possible. Finally, he saw a possible apartment, near the hostel where he lived now. He'd become good friends with Quentin and Quinn and wouldn't mind being able to stay in the area.

"This is the apartment, kid," the man said, opening the door. It was a small space, with barely enough room for a foldout couch/bed, a waist-high dresser pressed against the far wall and a chair. Thankfully it came furnished, so none of his money had to go to furniture. There was a kitchenette with a small refrigerator, a sink, a couple cabinets and a two-burner stovetop between the bed and the door to the equally small bathroom. But Jess thought he was lucky to have a bathroom: a lot of apartments this small had community bathrooms to a floor. 

"Homey," Jess said, almost managing to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

"Yeah, you could call it that," the man said. He dropped the keys into Jess' hand. "First and last month's rent comes to $956." Jess cut the check, as well one for the security deposit. "Enjoy, kid. Call me if somethin' comes up that you can't handle."

"I'll be sure to do that," Jess said, watching the man go. He examined the locks on the door, thought about getting another one. If he did, it would have to be a deadbolt. After again scoping out his cash situation, he decided he could afford it.

He stayed with the construction crew, knowing that chances were slim of him getting another job without a high school diploma. He earned enough money to keep him in his apartment with cereal, trips to the bookstore, and the occasional movie thrown in. His friends were envious of his apartment, but chipped in to buy him a small TV/VCR as a house-warming gift. Occasionally he would help Quinn at the bookstore, and he enjoyed the muffling effect of the shelves and the smell of the books. Soon after his eighteenth birthday, he was attending Quentin and Quinn's joint graduation party. Even sooner after that, it seemed, he was helping them move into the dorms at Cambridge University. 

"Nice closet," Jess said mockingly to Quinn, dropping a box of her clothes to the floor. He surveyed the room; it was almost the same size as his apartment. But unlike his place, it had two beds and two desks shoved up against opposite walls. There was barely enough room to move around. "Where's your room?"

"You know you just quoted a comic strip," Quinn said acidly. "Don't knock it, Jess. You going to be working construction all your life? Why don't you take a couple of classes at BCC?" 

Jess shrugged. "I don't know, can't afford it? Come on, Quinn. You've been in a bad mood since you broke up with Sheila."

"So? She wanted us to be 'free to find ourselves' while we went to different colleges." Quinn threw her pillow on her bed a little too hard. "I'm over it. And her."

"Once more with feeling," Jess said.

Despite herself, the corners of her mouth tugged up. "Shut up, Mariano. That was a Buffy quote." She saw him wince hard, and smirked her revenge. "Come on. We've got to help my brother."

"Yeah," Jess said. "Wouldn't want him to be alone in straining his muscles lugging up his boxes of CDs." Jess rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Wimp," Quinn said. Jess almost snapped at her, then thought better of it. He'd seen the boxes of books she sometimes lifted at the bookstore.

"Well," Jess returned. "He could have at least told me that he would be taking all his CDs with him. Do you know how much money he could make if he sold his entire collection? I bet he could buy his own car with that kind of money."

She snorted as she left the dorm, walking to the car parked out front. "Yeah, sure. Like he'd give any of them up. He doesn't even lend them out, Jess. You think he's going to sell them?"

"Yeah, I know," Jess said. "Wishful thinking. There's a couple in here I wouldn't mind having."

"I heard that," Quentin said. "And dream on, boy. I'll burn you copies, but you're not touching the originals."

"I'm just glad he left his vinyl collection in the care of our parents," Quinn said before hefting the first of three large boxes to carry in.

Jess sighed in resignation, and grabbed another.

Three weeks later, he'd barely heard from his friends, but that was almost to be expected. He didn't begrudge them their "settling in" time. After all, it was hard balancing the job schedule with classes, and it took time to get it right.

He was sitting in his apartment reading after work when his phone rang. "Yeah?" he said absently into the receiver.

"Jess? It's Quinn. Look, I know we've been kind of ignoring you, and I really hate to ask this, except I'm in a bind. I forgot about this lecture that I have to go to and I scheduled some work time, and…well…."

"You want me to cover for you," Jess said. He shrugged, though she couldn't see. "Okay." 

"Oh, thank you! Jess, you know I would kiss you if you were here and my type. But…oh, what the hell! I'll kiss you anyway next time I see you!" She hung up quickly, and Jess just looked at the receiver for a long moment before chuckling.

He headed to the bookstore. "Hey," he said to the other clerk, who looked very put out, anxiously clock watching. "I'm covering for Quinn today, so you can take off."

"Thank God!" The kid was out of the store quicker than light speed, and Jess went to work. 

A half-hour later, he was buried among a few dozen coffee table books, trying to think of how to organize them—alphabetical by subject, author, or title—when he heard the bells over the door signaling a customer.

"I'll be out in a minute," Jess called, and began shelving them by size, which was the quickest.

"Take your time," a sweet, female voice said from the front room. He shrugged agreeably and took the books he'd already shelved out, and began to alphabetize them by author. He was just shelving a book about Eighteenth century art by a Zimmeruski when he heard an awed, "Wow."

He turned to see a tall woman with brown hair and wide blue eyes looking around in amazement. Jess stepped forward a bit, and she jumped and turned towards him. "Oh, you startled me," she gasped, putting a hand to her chest. "I think I've only ever seen someplace this disorganized when I looked into my mother's closet. What happened? Did a hurricane rip through here? Or was it more, 'Batten down the hatches?'"

Jess raised an eyebrow. "That's almost the exact same thing I asked when I first saw this place," he mused. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Um, no," she said uncertainly. "I'm just browsing. Wow, it would be easy to get lost in here. How do you find stuff?"

"For me, it's blind luck," he said dryly. She laughed lightly, then went back to scanning the shelves. Suddenly she gasped and yanked an ancient-looking text off the shelf. She opened the front cover and grinned madly. "I take it you found something good?" Jess asked, interested despite himself.

She said an impressive-sounding title that he'd never heard of. "My grandfather was looking for this, but he could only ever find a second edition. I think he heard that all first editions were destroyed. This is great!" She turned the book over. "And it's in such good condition, too!" Her eyes were shining with excitement as she looked up at Jess. He felt an odd lurch of his stomach as he met her eyes. She faltered for a moment, looking unsure for one second before looking back down at the book. "How much?"

"Let me see," Jess said, reaching to take the book from her. He looked for the price mark, and saw that it was five dollars. He told her, and she looked as if she would faint. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm great!" she said. "Oh, this is wonderful! This is even better than the oil portrait!"

Jess blinked for a moment before saying, "What?"

She hummed distractedly at him before glancing up. "Oh. The oil portrait remark. My grandmother got this wild hair to paint an oil portrait for me as a present for my grandfather. At first she had me sitting there for an hour with my arm up like this." She demonstrated. "And then she wanted me to pose with a swan, but the swan didn't like me."

"That sounds…," Jess couldn't think of anything to say besides, "interesting."

"My arm hurt for days." She smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Rory Gilmore."

"Rory?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's short for Lorelai, but since my mom's name is Lorelai, too, I just go by Rory." She waited for a long moment. "And you are?"

"Jess Mariano," he said, then took the hand she offered in a shake. "So," he said. "What brings you to the Reader's Rummage?"

"Trying to get away from my roommate," she sighed. "She's…indescribable. She's not messy, but she's not neat. And she likes Celine Dion and Cher and plays them incessantly." 

Jess winced. "Ooh, that's bad."

"It could be worse. I had nightmares about ending up rooming with someone like this girl I knew in school. That would have been really bad. One of us would have killed the other, and I'm not at all sure it wouldn't have been me holding the smoking gun." 

Jess laughed shortly. "What college are you going to?"

"Harvard," she said.

"Wow." Rich, he thought glumly. He was surprised to realize he'd been considering asking her out. He hadn't been on a date since he got to Boston. But no one had intrigued him like this woman.

"Yeah. It's been my dream to go. I'm just glad I got enough scholarships to cover everything, you know?" Jess smiled slightly. Okay, not rich. Maybe he could ask her out.

"Gonna look some more, or you sticking with that?" Jess asked, suddenly aware of the silence.

"Um…I'm gonna look some more. When do you guys close?"

"Nine."

"Oh, great. I've got time."

"Forty minutes isn't enough time for browsing in here. You'll see," he added when she looked at him in surprise.

Near to closing time, she dropped a stack of books on the counter in the front room. "Whoa," Jess said, eyes widening at the sheer volume of books. "Are you taking all of these?"

"Of course," Rory said. "I found the prices in them, and I figured it comes to about twenty-five dollars." Jess scanned the inside covers, tapping the keys on the calculator deftly. "Yep," he said. "Twenty-five seventy-five." She handed over twenty-six, and he fished a quarter out of the ancient cash register.

She held out her hand for it, but when he opened his palm over hers, there was nothing. He flipped his hands around, pretending to look for it. "I don't know where it went," he said, feigning confusion.

"Yeah, sure," Rory said dryly. "And, just a little warning. If you ever want to see another cent of my money at this store, don't pull that quarter out of my ear."

Jess considered this. "So, I guess the nose is out, too?"

"Anyplace you wouldn't put change. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said. Suddenly he fisted his hand, and the quarter slowly appeared between his index and middle fingers. She looked impressed despite herself.

Just then the door flew open and a blonde whirlwind blew in. "Jess! I'm so sorry! But here," Quinn added, rounding the counter. Before Jess could say anything, Quinn had thrown her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "There! Never let it be said I go back on my word!" Then she noticed Rory looking bemused. "Oh. Hello."

"Quinn, this is Rory. Rory, Quinn."

"Nice to meet you," Quinn said, hurriedly stepping back from Jess. 

"Likewise," Rory said, smiling. She looked down at the counter, then gasped for a second time. "Oh, yay! Where is this?" she demanded, poking at a flyer on the counter. Jess tilted his head slightly to read it.

"Oh, that's the Cheap Seats," Quinn said before he could. She rattled off the address. "What're they showing tonight?"

"Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," Rory said, grinning madly. Jess' eyebrows raised. "It's my favorite movie!" Rory said, noticing the look and defending herself.

"Hey, you want to come with us?" Quinn asked, darting glances between Jess and Rory. "We always go to the movie at the Cheap Seats."

"Except for last week," Jess said. "You guys were settling in."

"They were showing Austin Powers," Quinn said scornfully. She turned back to Rory. "What do you say? There's another one coming, too. My brother. And possibly whoever he's dating this week."

Rory frowned for a moment before saying, "Sure. Why not? It's Friday, after all. It's not like I've got class in the morning!"

"That's the spirit!" Quinn said. "Do you have a car?"

"Yeah, it's parked outside."

"Then why don't you stash these," Quinn gestured at the stack of books, "out in your car while Jess and I lock up."

"Sounds good. I'll see you outside." She left the store, carrying the stack carefully so as not to drop one.

"Quinn," Jess sighed. She'd been trying for a long time to set him up.

"Come on, Jess, you like this girl. I can tell."

"I just met her an hour ago," he said.

"Time doesn't mean anything, you know that."

"If you quote Hitchhiker's Guide at me, I'm outta here. You know that stuff makes my head hurt." Jess made a face.

Quinn pouted for a minute, then gave in and started to count out the register. "Oh, all right. Come on, Jess. It's just a movie. How bad can it be?"

Jess wavered for a long moment, watching Rory through a window. She brushed her hair back and looked around, seeming to take it all in. "Oh, all right. But if she starts singing along with the movie, I'm sneaking out the back."

"I'll be sneaking with you," Quinn said. She glanced up and said, "Oops, there's Quentin. Go run interference, will you?"

But it turned out it was unnecessary. "Lane! Oh, I can't believe I haven't seen you yet!" Rory was hugging a shorter Asian girl. 

"Hey, Quentin," Jess said. "Rory, this is Quentin."

"Lane already introduced us. Lane Kim, this is Jess Mariano." Jess and Lane shook hands. "Lane is my best friend. She's going to Cambridge, but I haven't gotten to see her at all. We've been so busy."

"Lucky for me," Quentin said. "Lane is in my Lit. class, and I asked her to the movie tonight."

Quinn emerged from the bookstore. "What a coincidence," she said. "Rory's invited, too."

After introducing Lane to Quinn, Rory said, "They're showing Willy Wonka!" 

Lane began grinning. "Oh, wouldn't Lorelai love to be here?"

"I'll call her when I get back to the dorms. She'll hate to have missed this."

When they got to the Cheap Seats, Jess advised Rory, "Don't buy popcorn. The movie only costs a dollar, but the popcorn is three dollars a scoop. And the scoop is one cup popped." Rory gasped in outrage.

"But…" she said, looking longingly at the popcorn and assorted junk food for sale.

"The candy's worse," Jess said. She still watched the rack of candy as they moved past it. "We'll go out for ice cream after," he added.

"Deal!" Rory said.

Jess was terribly relieved when Rory didn't sing along with the movie. She sat between him and Quentin, with Lane between the twins. Jess occasionally looked at her during the movie, and found every time that she had a big grin on her face.

When it was over, Rory stretched, still smiling. "That really is your favorite movie, isn't it?" he asked her, somewhat surprised.

"Yep. My mom and I watch it at least once a month, sometimes more, depending on how things are going and whether we need pick-me-ups. Jeez, Lane," Rory said, looking around at the thinning crowd. "Don't you feel like we should be heading to Luke's for after-movie pie?"

"Yeah. This is definitely like home. All that's missing is Kirk telling people to be quiet. So, where are we going for ice cream?"

Quentin looked at Jess, who looked at Quinn. As one they said, "Cold Cuts!" and grinned. Whenever Jess got a sugar craving, he could always go to Cold Cuts. They made their own ice cream there, in some of the most outrageous flavors.

"Salmon!" Rory said, noticing the flavor of the day. She choked back laughter. "Salmon! They have fish-flavored ice cream!"

"Are you going to have some?" Jess asked her, raising an eyebrow daringly.

"No way in hell," she said.

Lane grabbed her arm, and pointed. "Do you see what I see?"

"You are not a shepherd boy," Rory said. "Just tell me."

"Right below the Strawberry Surprise."

Rory gasped, and clutched Lane's arm right back. "Oh, yummy! I'll take two scoops of that!" she told the person behind the counter, pointing.

"The scoops are pretty big," Jess said. She just waved him away. Lane got the same thing.

Quentin stared at the cones the girls held gingerly as they sat at their table. "Isn't that a lot of caffeine for this late at night?" he asked. "I mean, the mocha espresso supreme ice cream was bad enough, but did you need to get coffee grounds as a topping?"

"I got raspberries," Lane said, sounding superior. "I have a basic food group represented."

"I've got my food groups represented," Rory said around a mouthful of ice cream. "Junk food, chocolate, and coffee."

"You better be glad Luke isn't here," Lane told her. In answer to the questioning stares she explained, "Her mom's boyfriend is a major health nut. He's been trying to get Rory and Lorelai off coffee for years."

"As long as he's making Heaven in a Mug, there's no chance of that," Rory interjected. "At the same time that he's yelling at my mom and me that we're addicts and junkies, he's pouring us more coffee. Explain that to me," she demanded, pointing at Jess with her ice cream. He just shrugged and ate a bite of his own white chocolate swirl cone.

When they arrived back in front of the bookstore, Quinn, Quentin and Lane left before Jess and Rory could say anything but a fleeting, "Bye!"

They stood beside Rory's car awkwardly. She shifted her feet. "This was really fun. Do they do that every week?"

"Yeah," Jess said. "Usually they've got some really good movies. Occasionally, they'll pick a real stinker."

"That's the way it goes," Rory said. She moved again, and her keys jingled. "Can I…give you a lift anywhere?" she asked.

"No, thanks. I live just a couple doors down."

"Wow. Convenient. You're close to work."

"Oh, I don't usually work here. I was just filling in for Quinn today. She messed up her scheduling and couldn't make it."

"That was nice of you," Rory said, smiling.

Jess leaned closer. "Confidentially, I only do it so I can scout out what books I'm going to buy next." Rory's smile widened.

"So, what do you do?"

"I work in construction."

"Wow," she said. "That explains your physique." Then she blushed and bit her lip. "Um, anyway, this was fun. I guess I'll see you around?"

"Have you got a pen?" he asked suddenly.

She unlocked her car and reached into the glove compartment. "Uh…pencil. Will that work?" She triumphantly held the pen up.

"Yeah." He grabbed one of her books and wrote his number on the title page. She started to protest, then changed her mind. "Why don't you give me a call sometime? I can show you around some more."

She smiled. "That sounds nice. I'll do that."

"So…later, then," he said, stepping back. She stepped with him, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

She just as quickly rounded the hood of her car and said, "Yeah. Later." Then she drove away.

*****

"Mom?" Rory said into the receiver.

"You're late," Lorelai whined.

"I went to a movie. I found this place. Well, first, I found this bookstore where the books are so cheap! I found the perfect gift for grandpa. Then I saw this flyer that was just lying on the counter, and you'll never guess what was playing!"

"Uh…Glitter?"

"Ew, mom, don't be gross. A good movie."

"Monty Python?"

"Willy Wonka." 

Lorelai gasped in outrage. "You watched it without me? How could you? My own flesh and blood!" She was silent for a minute. "So…what else?"

"Well, we went out for ice cream—"

"'We'?" Lorelai asked. "Who is we?"

"Me, Lane, Lane's date, and a couple of other people."

"Uh-huh. Was this couple of other people a couple?"

"Not really."

"Was there a cute guy in this not-a-couple of other people?"

"Well…"

"Oh, good! You've finally gotten over Dean!"

Rory sighed heavily into the mouthpiece. "I still can't quite believe he broke up with me over college! Just because he's not going doesn't mean I shouldn't go! And I worked hard for those scholarships! He has no right to be angry about the time I spent filling out the forms and writing the essays."

"I thought it was the 'you-smart-me-dumb' aspect of it that annoyed you so much," Lorelai said around crunching.

"What are you eating?"

"Nothing." The crunching stopped.

"What are you eating?"

"Grasshoppers."

"Chocolate-covered?"

"Nope. Just grasshoppers."

"Fine. Don't tell me. But, yes. That part of things annoyed me, too. I just don't understand it! He's smart! He could have gotten into any college he wanted, especially with playing basketball. But he didn't even want to go to college, and he's yelling at me because I do want to." Rory sighed in exasperation, but didn't feel any real hurt. Like most early relationships, theirs had been destined to fizzle out. They just didn't have enough in common to sustain a long run. And she'd started feeling a little trapped by his possessiveness, which hadn't lessened even after the perceived threat of Tristan had disappeared. He'd flipped in his weird, mellow way if she wanted to stay home one night, or hang out with Lane or Lorelai.

"Okay, okay," Lorelai said. "I'm sorry I brought it up. So…who's this new guy?"

"Jess. He was working at the bookstore. It turns out that Lane is going to the same school as a couple of friends of his and his friend Quentin asked her to the movie."

"So he invited you?"

Rory frowned. "Not…really. He went along with it. His friend Quinn just suddenly said, 'hey, we're going. Wanna come?' What was I going to do? I'd already proclaimed that it was my favorite movie ever. Besides, she was looking at me really expectantly. I did think for a while they were a couple, but then she maneuvered it so that Jess and I sat next to each other in the car and at the movie."

"Is he cute?"

"Yeah. He's really…kinda buff. He has long-ish brown hair, and these really great eyes. And he's smart, too. He likes books almost as much as I do."

"Ooh, I like him already."

"Mom. You've got Luke."

"Yeah, I do, don't I? So? Why don't you go out and get yourself a little boy-toy like I did?"

"Remember to record it if Luke ever hears you calling him that. I'd like to have a thorough record of my mother's murder. You know, for the cops? And so Luke will have some defense."

Lorelai ignored that. "So, how's adjustment to dorm life going?"

It was well into the morning hours when Rory finally hung up. She stretched and looked around the common room where her phone was. The she yawned hugely and headed for her room. She opened the door, afraid her roommate was already asleep. The girl was snoring softly, occasionally punctuated by a loud snort. Rory rolled her eyes and got into her PJs, slipping into bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

*****

Saturday dawned, and Jess awoke slowly, having turned off his normal alarm for the weekend. After he was more than half awake, he pulled a book off his table, opened it to the marked page and began reading. His stomach started rumbling soon after that, and he decided to get up and find something to eat.

He yawned as he shuffled towards his kitchenette, scratching his face idly. He briefly entertained the thought of shaving but dismissed it; most likely he'd be sitting around all day reading. After checking his clock, he smirked a little, noting that if this were a weekday, he'd already be sweating, putting up a wall or something.

Around noon, he surfaced from his books when the phone rang. He cleared his throat and answered. "Yeah?"

"Uh, hi. This is Rory."

"Oh, hey, Rory," he said, sitting up and marking his spot in the book. "What can I do for you?"

"I don't know," she said idly. "I was just wondering if I could prevail upon a native to show me around?"

"I don't know if I can help with the native thing, but I can certainly show you around."

"Oh, sorry. I just assumed you were a native."

"I've lived here for a while, but I was born in New York."

"Really? Huh. I went to New York a couple times."

He smiled slightly. "For what?"

"Concert. And a shopping trip. But the shopping trip never really happened. My mom drove around forever trying to find a parking space that wouldn't cut our budget for shopping in half. Then she got really frustrated and started driving around in circles, occasionally cutting off a cabbie and getting flipped off and cursed at in at least three different languages. That was the last straw for her, and we turned around and went home."

"Your mom sounds…." For the second time, he could find no other word to describe something she'd said other than, "Interesting."

"She is that."

"You guys sound like you're really close," he noted, settling back against the couch.

"You could say that. She's my best friend." 

Jess frowned a little. "You don't mean that in the 'sucking up to your mom' kind of way. I think you really are friends. Do you know how rare that is?"

"I do. But do you also know how rare it is for a sixteen-year-old girl to run away from home with a baby? That's what my mom did. She came to Stars Hollow with me when I was just a baby and got a job at an Inn—which she now basically runs—and I lived there all my life. Basically, we grew up together."

"Wow," Jess said, his memory trying to tell him something about her speech. When he didn't get it after a long moment, he put the thought aside. "That sounds…kind of rough."

"We did okay. And it all turned out great. So what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I told you the gist of my life story. It's your turn."

"I usually know people for a little longer before divulging my life's details to them," Jess said evasively.

"Please? I'll buy you some salmon-flavored ice cream."

"Maybe later. What did you want to do?"

"I don't know," she said, sounding a bit put off. "My mom and I did the whole tourist thing a while ago. I just called to see if there's anything to do here on the weekends."

"I usually spend my weekends reading," Jess said. Occasionally Quentin and Quinn will drag me out of the house to go to some club or something, but it never really appealed to me."

"Me neither. What are you reading?"

Jess picked up his book and scanned the cover idly. "On the Road."

"First time?"

"Nope. Re-reading it is more accurate."

"When did you first read it?"

"Eleven."

"Wow," she said. "I thought I was an early starter at twelve."

Jess smiled. "You've read Kerouak?"

"Yeah. All the Beats. I just love that. The social upheaval and reform they tried to inflict. Speaking of which, ever read Steal this Book?"

"Yeah. I was sixteen. That was fun. I'd just gotten past the sixties in twentieth century humanities at the time, so it really was…eye opening to just how much crap the school system doesn't tell us."

"I hear that."

They continued discussing books for another hour or so before it occurred to him that she actually called to do something. "Well, I can show you the Boston Public Library, if you want. Since you'll be here for a while, you should get a card."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked. "I've got the third-largest library in the world at my fingertips here. There are thirteen million volumes at the Harvard libraries. It's great. I haven't even begun to go through the first one. Hey! I've got an idea! Why don't you come on over here, and I'll give you a tour of the campus!"

Jess' eyebrow raised. "Really? Is that allowed? I'm not a student."

"Yeah. Believe me. Come on over, and I'll tell you about the time my mom led me on a tour of Harvard."

"Your mom is a tour guide?"

"Nope."

Jess sighed. "Okay. Give me an hour. Where should I meet you?"

She told him, and he hung up with another sigh. Then he sprang into action, heading for his bathroom. Twenty minutes later he was out the door, looking at his bus schedule for the quickest route to Harvard University.

A harrowing fifty minutes later, he showed up late. He scanned the crowd for Rory, hoping she hadn't left. Then he saw her, just strolling up. He went over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hi," she said, turning. She wore a T-shirt that said, "Kafka was here." He pointed at the writing.

"You wore that just to annoy me, didn't you?" He'd mentioned in their discussion that he didn't like Kafka. She raised her eyebrow at him. 

"No. I wore it because I like it. That it annoys you is just a side benefit." She abruptly grabbed his arm, hooked her own through it, and began leading him onto the campus. "Come on!"

"Wait a minute. You said you'd tell me about your mom giving you a tour." Jess didn't pull his arm from hers. It felt nice. Kind of…natural to be arm-in-arm with her.

Rory laughed. "Actually, it started with my mom was running away from her wedding. She'd just called off the wedding to one of my teachers and didn't want to stick around to hear the gossips go wild. So we packed our bags and left. We spent a foodless night in a horrible bed and breakfast, because we couldn't leave our room for fear of being besieged with freakish B&B'ers. My mom was convinced the flowered wallpaper was multiplying, or growing, or moving, or something. It was all very weird."

She stopped and pointed at a rock. "That is the rock my mom took a picture of. The first picture at Harvard and she takes it of a squirrel on a rock."

Jess smiled. "I'm sure it was a very smart squirrel. A Harvard squirrel can't be anything but intelligent. I bet it was even posed smartly. Reading a tiny, squirrel-sized book."

"You're mocking me," Rory said.

"Yeah. You're right. Sorry."

"Oh, no, don't apologize. My mother and I are unapologetic mockers. You should have heard us talking about roommate possibilities."

"So get back to the tour."

"Okay. So, anyway, the next morning, we're staring at a map I stowed away, and suddenly she takes the map from me, crumples it up, and drags me here. Then she just walks right in. She got hit on at a bulletin board while I got coffee…ooh, coffee. Come on!" She began pulling him towards a coffee stand that was doing a brisk business.

"While we're waiting in line, tell the rest."

"Well, then we snuck into the dorms. She pretended to be looking for someone name Suzie, and she took pictures of me sitting at a desk in someone else's dorm room. And then, we were going past some class rooms, and I went in, and dropped my coffee. It was so embarrassing, the whole stadium-seating classroom turned and looked and me. I stammered a little and then the teacher asked me if I was staying or going. I didn't know what to do, so I sat, and the next thing I know, I'm debating about relativism with a college professor and several students."

The guy behind the cart raised his eyebrows at the tail end of the discussion and asked, "What'll it be?"

"Do you have anything stronger than a double espresso?"

"Like you need the caffeine," Jess muttered. "Just get what the cart offers."

Rory pursed her lips, then gave in. "Oh, all right. Double espresso, please. You getting anything, Jess?"

"No, thanks, I'm good. I think I'll get a buzz just watching you drink that," he added after they stepped away from the cart.

Rory took a large gulp of coffee before saying, "Oh, stop. You sound like Luke."

"That's your mom's boyfriend, right?" Rory nodded and swallowed another gulp. "So… I guess it's a good thing that I sound like him?"

"How so?"

"Well, that means that I appeal to Gilmores," he said, watching for her reaction out of the corner of his eye. She blushed slightly and chugged more of her coffee. Then she threw the cup into a nearby trash can and started walking again.

"That was basically our foray into Harvard without any official guides. We went to the school store, though, and they were having a two-for-one sale on the flags, and we nearly bought the place out."

"You and your mom have had some interesting times, it sounds like."

Rory smiled at him. "You have no idea. Take my birthday parties. The last couple have gone until three in the morning, usually rounded off with a food fight. Started by my mother and me."

"Really?"

"Yup. When's your birthday?"

"April." She glared at him for his vague answer, and he sighed and conceded, "The nineteenth. Nineteen-eighty-four."

"Thank you. How did you spend your last birthday?"

"Friends," he said shortly. "We just watched movies."

"What else do you do?" Rory asked. "I mean, socially."

"Occasionally they'll drag me out of my apartment to try and fix me up—but that's mostly Quinn's doing. Since I arrived in Boston my life is pretty uneventful, actually."

"I'm kind of envious," Rory said contemplatively. "My life has been a pretty long string of stress for the last several years. See, I've wanted to go to Harvard ever since I can remember. So my mom and I decided that I should go to this really prestigious private school for high school."

He listened to her talk about the difficulties dealing with owing her grandparents that much money, her mom's relationship with the teacher, Rory's up-and-down relationships with her boyfriend, her friend Lane, and her mother. She finished her tale with, "And then when he figured out I was actually coming here, he broke up with me."

"I'm sorry," Jess said.

"I'm mad," Rory returned. "A little sorry, too. But he was really getting on my nerves towards the end. I don't know. I guess very few first romances last for very long, huh?"

"None that I know personally lasted all that long," Jess said agreeably.

They continued talking until Rory led Jess into one of the libraries. She watched him as he jawed like a landed fish. "Did I mention there were thirteen million books here?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to watch him. He wore jeans and a T-shirt that looked equally threadbare. His hair was slightly bushy. And he was gaping like an idiot. She chuckled. To her surprise, she really liked him.

"I feel like I should be salaaming, or something," he said, his voice hushed.

"Come on," Rory said, taking his hand and pulling him to the fiction section. She pushed him down one aisle, and held up a copy of On The Road.

Jess smiled. "But I've got that at home," he said. "I don't need to check it out." Then he stopped, watching as she flipped open the cover and held it out to him. He looked down at it, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "No…way. An autographed copy! Just available to check out whenever?"

Rory shook her head. "Nope." She tapped a sticker on the spine. "Can't take it out of the library. That's why it's in such good condition."

Jess grinned at her. "Now I feel like I should be salaaming for sure."

Rory smiled, and slipped the book back onto the shelf gently. Then she stepped up to him, and kissed him. More than the peck she'd bestowed on him the night before. Surprised, it took him a few moments to respond. But then his hands slipped around her waist.

When she pulled back, she had a smile on her face. "So," she said. Jess let out a silent whistle after she turned away. She packed a punch. "What do we do now?"

"Food?" Jess asked.

"Good idea. What are you in the mood for?"

Jess shrugged.

"In that case," Rory said. "Let's head to the mall. I swear, they've got every nationality and every type of food imaginable in the food court."

Jess ended up having a gyro from the Greek food kiosk, while Rory had one plate piled high with cous cous, and another next to it containing a bit of everything from the Indian buffet. After she'd taken a huge bite, Jess winced. "That smells terrible," he said. "I hope you're planning on burning those clothes. You'll never be able to get the smell out of them."

"I like Indian food," Rory said defensively. "It's hard to get a lot of Indian food in Stars Hollow. And you sound just like my mother."

Jess paused, blinking. "Normally I'd take offense to that, but given the subject matter, I'm gonna say thanks."

"You're not welcome," she said haughtily. "In this case it wasn't a compliment."

Jess just smirked, and she smiled slightly in response, then dug back into her food. A few minutes later, she paused to take a drink. "So, how'd you end up in Boston?" she asked idly. Jess raised an eyebrow. "I mean," she continued. "You said you weren't a native, that you lived in New York, but I've never heard you mention parents."

Jess sighed. "I came here on a bus. I didn't have much money, so I got a job. I bought an apartment."

It was Rory's turn to sigh. "That's not informative at all," she said. "Why did you come here on a bus?"

He frowned at her. Then he said, "I think I'm gonna go and get some desert. There's a cookie stand over there."

"Jess," Rory said, watching him in confusion. "What did—"

"It'd be good to get one ahead of time, before there's a huge line."

"Wait a minute—"

"I think one of those peanut-butter crunch cookies sounds good," he said.

"But—"

"What do you think?"

"Fine." She sighed. "Whatever."

Jess shrugged and went to stand in the short line. He resisted glancing back at her. Now he knew what he'd been fighting to remember since their phone call that morning. He got off the bus bound for the small Connecticut town. Stars Hollow. Of which Rory was a lifetime resident. Fate was certainly having her little fun with him, wasn't she?

He cursed under his breath, attracting a few nervous glances from those around him. He scowled in response, but was thinking hard. His uncle's name was Luke. He knew that much. And Rory's mom's boyfriend's name was Luke. This was all too weird.

"One peanut-butter crunch, please," Jess grumbled at the woman behind the counter. She said nothing but the price, and handed him his change and the cookie wordlessly, shaking her head at him as he walked back to the table.

"What is your problem?" Rory demanded.

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence.

She pursed her lips angrily. "That little evasive maneuver. Very slick. And very obvious."

"Look, Rory, could we just drop it? Please?"

Her face softened. "One of those things you just don't want to talk about?"

"Yeah," he said, hoping she would leave it at that.

There was a lull in the conversation, while he watched her eat. As he felt the weirdness leaving his consciousness, he began to smile in puzzlement. She looked up, and saw his quizzical expression, and laughed a bit self-consciously. "I like food."

"Apparently," he said. "Let's finish eating so we can get out of here. The temple of consumerism gives me the creeps."

She laughed, but obligingly dug into her food.

As they were exiting the mall, they passed a music store. Rory looked questioningly at Jess, and he shrugged in response. Satisfied with the wordless exchange, they went in, arm in arm. The wordlessness didn't last for long, though. Pretty soon, they were debating music as vehemently as they discussed books. "Coldplay isn't alternative," Rory said staunchly. "I will forever maintain that this is misfiled."

Jess sighed. "You're stubborn," he said, almost admiringly. "Fine. We'll agree to disagree."

Rory nodded, and placed the CD back with a sneer. "Ooh, I wanna check something," she said, and dragged him over to another section. "You've seen '10 Things I Hate About You'?"

"Julia Stiles?"

"Yeah. Her 'breakout' movie. You know the band playing during the credits?"

"Yeah. Letters to Cleo. Quentin has their CDs."

Rory looked up, startled. "Really? All of them?"

"Yeah," Jess said again. "Why?"

"I can't find Aurora Gory Alice anywhere!"

"Well, I'm sure you can get a copy from Quentin."

"Great!" Rory said. She looked around. "I think I'm done in here, unless I want to spend another two hours browsing."

"Let's save that for another time," Jess agreed, and they left the music store. They walked through the concourse, watching the other people. 

As they exited the mall, Rory suddenly asked Jess, "Favorite poet?"

Jess made a face. "I don't do poetry."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Never got into it. Boring to me, I guess. Drags it out. Why can't they just come out and say it? No, prose is the way to go."

"No poetry at all?"

"Well…"

"Ah ha! I knew it! You're a closet Emily Dickinson fan, aren't you?"

"No. Thomas Wolfe."

"Howl," Rory said. "The class Valedictorian quoted that in her speech."

"Interesting," Jess said sincerely. "It doesn't seem like something suitable for a high school graduation."

Rory laughed. "I think it fit perfectly."

"Not that it's not fitting," Jess defended himself. "But I thought the administrators would have objected to that kind of thing. 'I have seen the best minds of my generation consumed by madness,' doesn't really throw a positive light on the educational system."

"Trust me, there's no arguing with Paris. She once made a counselor cry for insinuating that she switch math classes." Rory shook her head. 

"Wow. She sounds…intense."

"She is that," Rory laughed. "She's who I was afraid of getting for a roommate. She got accepted to Harvard, too, but we have completely different schedules."

They were walking past Blockbusters on their way back to Harvard. Jess stopped and looked at a movie poster. "I've wanted to see Scary Movie," he said idly.

"Looks campy," Rory said. Then she conceded, "I kinda did, too."

Jess took a deep breath. "Wanna rent it? We could watch it, then you could bring it back."

Rory knew he meant watch it at his apartment. _What the hell,_ she thought to herself. "Sure."

They went in, and picked up a few other movies. "Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" Jess asked.

Rory smiled, "What, you don't like it?" she asked.

"It's not that," he said. "It's just that Quinn quotes it. She loves it. Besides you're a couple weeks behind on the Cheap Seats. They showed that for the end of the summer."

"No harm in watching it again," she said, stubbornly holding onto the video and strolling further down the comedy aisle. As she grabbed something off the shelf, she switched to a British accent. "You must answer me these questions three!" she said, gleeful.

"An African swallow or a South American swallow?" Jess said gamely.

"She turned me into a newt!" Rory returned.

"A newt?" Jess raised an eyebrow.

Rory made a sheepish face. "I got better," she mumbled. Then she grinned and returned to normal speech. "Oh, we're getting this…." 

Jess just shrugged. "I think three videos is enough," he said.

They headed back towards Harvard. "What are we going to do for junk food?" Rory asked.

"You can't be hungry already," Jess said.

"Can, too," Rory said indignantly. "That little meal wasn't enough to satisfy a Gilmore craving. Besides, you can't watch movies without some kind of junk food. At least tell me you've got coffee."

Jess shook his head. "Not even a coffee maker," he said factually. "I only just got a microwave," he added.

Rory flat-out gaped at him. "You're kid—you're not kidding. How can you not have a coffee maker? How do you wake up in the mornings?"

"By opening my eyes," Jess said. "Besides. I like to save the money I would otherwise spend on coffee on books, music and movies."

"There is that," Rory said. "Luke was a sweetheart, though, and gave me a huge bag of coffee that he makes as a going-away present for school. He says, 'You're already beyond redemption. May as well go in style.'" She laughed. 

Jess shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I guess that's the way to go, if you're going," he said, uncomfortable with the mention of his possible uncle.

"Most definitely," Rory said.

By that time, they were standing around Rory's car. "Where did you get a car like this?" Jess asked.

"Well, after I broke up with Dean, I had to give his car back."

"His car?"

"Well, the car he made me."

"He made you a car?" Rory nodded. "Interesting," was all he said.

"Anyway, then my mom told me to take the Jeep. It needs repair now and then, but now that it's out of my mom's reach, I don't think the battery will be dying anymore."

"She's hard on cars, huh?" Jess asked, sliding into the passenger side.

"You have no idea," Rory sighed. She listed her mom's crimes against vehicular transport, and Jess smirked.

He directed her to a parking lot behind his apartments. Since he didn't use his spot, he told her to park there. "So, what about junk food?" she asked again.

He sighed. "You're really gonna want more junk after that Indian stuff?"

"There's always room for junk food," she said haughtily.

"There's a corner market near here. It's a short walk. Come on."

She entered, and immediately ran to the candy isle. She grabbed several packages of Red Vines, gummy everything, chocolate-covered coffee beans—she said that would do for coffee—and a huge bag of marshmallows. "Aren't you gonna get anything?" she asked, all wide-eyed innocence as she approached the counter.

"Just this," he held up a bag of microwave popcorn.

"Ooh, I didn't see those. Can you grab me a couple?" She dumped the stuff on the counter and smiled at the clerk, who looked bug-eyed in horror.

"Dozen?" Jess said, almost under his breath. He sighed.

He ended up carrying the bags home. Rory unlocked his door for him, and stepped in. Then she stopped and looked around. "You know," she said, looking around. "This looks like my mom's and my first apartment. We lived there until I was eleven, then we moved into our house."

"Really?" he asked. "What kind of apartment?"

"Actually, it was a tool shed. It was behind the inn my mom worked at. It was great: there was a lake right outside, and we could hear the music from the inn." She smiled nostalgically. "But they now use it as the gardening shed."

"Huh," he said. "Well, what you see is what you get. The bathroom is through the only other door. So what are we watching first?"

"I dunno," Rory shrugged. "What?"

"Pick a movie, pop it in."

Rory shrugged, and did as he said, selecting a case at random. She heard the kernels start popping in his microwave, and breathed in the scent of heavily buttered popcorn. She sat on the couch, familiarizing herself with the remote control. Halfway through the previews, Jess plopped down on the couch next to her, a huge bowl of popcorn in his hands. 

As the movie started—she'd picked Scary Movie—she reached over the arm of the couch and dug into a random bag. She came out with a package of marshmallows, ripped it open, and grabbed a handful.

Jess watched her for a long moment, then turned back to the film, smirking. They watched, letting the occasional wry or sarcastic comment escape. "Well, that was…interesting, to use your word," Rory said finally. "I don't know if that was good, bad, or just weird. There were some definite funny parts, but—"

"There were some really stupid parts," Jess finished for her.

Next they watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Rory devoured a bag of Red Vines, and the bag of gummy bears. "I love that line, 'Isms in my opinion are not good.' It's just so…funny."

"'A person should not believe in an ism. They should believe in themselves.' You gotta appreciate that then he quotes John Lennon."

"Of course," Rory said. "Hey, let's pop the other bags. You know, Cameron really reminds me of someone I know in Stars Hollow. His name is Kirk. He's…weird. Kinda creepy, you know? But he's also really pathetic. He drives Luke crazy at the diner."

Jess sighed. "So…what's Luke's last name?" he asked, hopefully casually.

"Danes."

Jess winced. It was his uncle. Really, he hadn't thought it wouldn't be. How many Lukes could there be in how many Stars Hollows? 

Wanting to avoid thinking about it, he looked at his clock. "Do you need to be getting back? It's almost eight." 

Rory thought quickly. Did he want her to leave? Did he want her to say no, she didn't need to go back? She took a deep breath. "Uh, no, not really. Why?"

"No reason. I was just—" His phone cut him off, and he held up one finger to her. "Yeah?" he answered.

"We're going to a club," Quentin said without preamble. 

"Excuse me?" Jess answered.

"There's a new one opening in Cambridge, and we're dragging you out of your apartment to go there. Have you left at all today?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Jess said. "I spent a lovely day touring Harvard. Does that excuse me?"

Quentin paused. "You left the house? Who dragged you out?"

"Rory," Jess said.

A longer pause, and Jess could practically hear his friend smirking. "Oh, really," he said, dragging the word out. Then he heard him saying to someone else, "Rory hauled him out of his apartment." There was a muffled question, and he said, "I'll check. Is she there now?"

"Uh, yeah," Jess said cautiously. "But—"

"Whoo! Jess! You dog!"

"Quentin?" Jess said, lowering his voice. "Shut up. We're watching movies."

"What?"

Jess told him. "And we've still got the Holy Grail to watch."

"We'll hit the club next weekend. Why don't we bring over the Life of Brian? Oh, and History of the World Part One!"

Jess sighed. "Is there any way I'm going to be able to stop you?" he asked.

"No."

"Come on over, then." He sighed, and put down the phone. "We're going to be having company," he told Rory sardonically. "Quentin and Quinn are coming, and they're bringing two more movies."

"Cool," Rory shrugged.

When they got to his apartment, Jess was surprised to see them with a couple of beanbags in tow. "You don't have any place to sit in here, Jess," Quinn said. "This time we thought ahead."

Rory was generous enough to share what was left of her junk food. They all talked and laughed through the last three movies. It was early morning by the time Rory stretched, yawned, and confessed she had to get back to her dorm. "I've got a paper to work on tomorrow," she groaned. "At least it's a little better than high school, though." Quinn and Quentin agreed. Jess just shrugged.

"Bye," they all said. Then Quinn and Quentin plunked themselves down on either side of Jess, and grinned identical grins at him. "Well, well, well," Quentin said.

"Indeed. And well again," Quinn added.

"Shut up," Jess said.

"You just met her yesterday," Quentin said. "Late yesterday, I might add. And yet you spent the day with her. How much do you like her?"

"It's complicated," Jess said. He started to push himself to his feet, but Quinn grabbed his arm and dragged him back. "Look," Jess snapped, starting to get angry. "This is my apartment, and if I want to stand up, I will damn well stand up." Quinn raised her eyebrows at her twin, who mirrored her surprised expression.

"Okay, tell," she said, watching him pace around his small apartment.

"Tell what?" he snapped. "Tell how smart she is? How beautiful? You both know that. You know that I like her, it's painfully obvious from those smarmy grins."

"So tell us something we don't know about her," Quentin requested.

"She's from Stars Hollow," Jess said shortly. 

"I know," Quentin said. "She and Lane grew up together."

"Stars Hollow is a little town in Connecticut," Jess said hintingly.

"So?" Then Jess saw the light bulb go off over Quinn's head. "No," she gasped. Jess nodded miserably. It had taken a while, but he had told them what led him here. It was a road he was satisfied with, and he didn't regret any of his actions. 

"What?" Quentin demanded.

"You remember how he got here? And why?"

"Yeah. Your mom was sending you…." Quentin's voice trailed off as he came to the same conclusion. "Whoa," he said. "That's just freaky."

"It gets better," he said. "Her mom is going out with Luke Danes."

"That's your uncle?" Quentin demanded.

"Yeah. So that probably means that she knew about me coming. Or at least her mom did. A kid suddenly living with someone is pretty big, you know?"

"And you don't know how your uncle or your mom reacted after finding out you were missing?" Quinn asked. She'd considered asking him a few times if he wanted to call his mom and talk to her. He'd always shaken his head and changed the subject.

Jess shrugged. "I didn't think it would be that big of a deal, you know?" he said. "I thought the guy might even be grateful. Come on, my mom just shipped me off without even warning the guy. I can only imagine how glad he was when I didn't show up."

"They both might've been worried about you," Quinn said.

Jess looked supremely uncomfortable. "I did fine. They didn't need to worry. I've got a job; I've got an apartment. I've got a life here. What would I have had there?"

"Family?" Quentin said. "From the looks of it, you would have known Rory for at least a year or two."

Jess was silent for a while, musing. "I was really angry," he finally said. "I would have tried my damnedest not to enjoy my life there. And it's a small town, my mom told me. Less than ten thousand people. How in the hell was I supposed to live there? I wouldn't have known anybody, even my uncle. Hell, if I passed the guy on the street I wouldn't know him from Adam."

"From the way Rory and Lane talk about him, he seems like a really nice guy," Quinn said. "A little too healthy, but a nice guy."

"That's the worst part," Jess said. "She tells me all this stuff about her town, and it sounds… if not good, at least amusing. And I wonder if I might have been able to live there."

"Certainly not the way you were when you first got here," Quentin scoffed. "I think you would have torn that little town to shreds because you were lashing out." Jess didn't bother to disagree. "But you've mellowed now. Well, maybe not mellowed, but you're not angry any more. You grew up, Jess."

"Kind of," Quinn said. "As much as you ever want to grow up."

"So are you going to tell her?" Quentin said, ignoring his sister.

"I don't know," Jess growled as he sat down hard between his friends. "I don't want her to hate me, and if my uncle took it badly that I never showed, she might."

Silence descended as Quinn studied him hard. "You're…serious about her, aren't you?" Jess flinched a little. "Oh my god!" Quinn said. "You are! But…"

"It's quick. I know. And I don't know if I am serious about her. I've never been serious about anyone." He raked his hand through his hair. "It feels…good to be around her, you know? I mean…I don't know what I mean. Just promise me you'll slap me around if I start spouting poetry, okay?"

"Happily," Quentin said, earning a mild glare from Jess. Quentin merely grinned at his friend. "Oh, come on, Jess, lighten up!" But even Quentin sobered. "Listen, if it makes any difference, I think before she makes any kind of decision she'll ask your motives. And I think it'll help if you tell her everything. And I mean everything, including emotions. Chicks go for that," he added, glancing sidelong at his sister. She hissed through her teeth at the comment, but otherwise ignored it.

"Much as I hate to admit it, my brother is right," Quinn said. "I think if you want to have any sort of relationship with this girl, you're going to have to tell her, and tell her quickly before either of you get in too deep." Quentin nodded.

"Thanks for the advice, guys," Jess sighed. Quinn and Quentin exchanged glances. 

"I think it's time we got back," Quentin said, standing. Quinn leaned over and pecked Jess on the cheek before she followed her brother out the door, lugging their beanbags behind them.

Trying not to think too hard, Jess pulled out his bed and fell into it.

*****

Jess let Sunday pass him by, lounging in his bed reading all day. Monday came, and he let the construction work distract him from thinking about Rory, Stars Hollow, his mother, and his uncle. But when he got off work, there was no reprieve from his conscience. None of his books interested him. Even good ol' Hemmingway couldn't offer escape. Finally, he flung the book away and stood up, determined to do something.

His phone rang as he was stuffing his wallet in his pocket. "Yeah?" he answered.

Rory's voice traveled clearly over the line. "Hey, Jess."

Despite his torment—or maybe he was a masochist—he smiled. "Hey. You get the paper done?"

"Mostly. What I didn't get done yesterday can get done next weekend. It's not due for a month anyway."

"You're one of those studious people that always wrecked the curve, aren't you?" Jess asked, propping himself against the back of the couch.

"There was no curve to wreck at Chilton. Everyone there wrecked the curve. That school as all angles."

"Must have made geometry easier to explain," Jess said, smirking.

"Bleh," Rory said, sounding utterly disgusted.

"What? Didn't do so good in math?"

"Oh, I was great at math. I just didn't like it. I can do it if I have to, but give me a choice between watching Snow Dogs and doing math homework, I would choose Snow Dogs."

"Wow, that's desperate," Jess said. "So…you called for something?"

"I was wondering what you were doing tonight?"

"Nothin'."

"Really nothing, or you're just saying nothing to try and sound cool?"

"Really nothing. I was getting ready to go out and find something to do when the phone rang."

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"Not me. Did you have anything in particular in mind?"

"No," she said. Jess could picture her shrugging and grinned.

"Well, why don't you come over here, and we'll try and think of something, hmm?" Jess raised his eyebrows at himself. That had come out far more suggestive than he'd thought it would. "Not…like that," he finished lamely.

Rory laughed. "That's okay. I'm sure we'll find something of interest. You get the newspaper?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll search the newspaper."

They agreed and hung up.

Jess looked around his apartment. It looked…fine, he guessed. Maybe it could use a dusting, and there were a few dishes in his sink…. Soon he'd done everything he could to improve his modest abode, and surveyed his work in satisfaction. Then he rubbed his chin and grimaced. He usually didn't shave before going to work, and hadn't gotten around to it yet.

He ran to his bathroom, wondering if he had enough time to shower before Rory got there. Shrugging, he hopped in, and turned on the water. when he stumbled out, he was a little foggy-brained from the hot water. Standing in front of the mirror, he surveyed himself. Maybe he should get a haircut. It was looking kind of…shaggy. He decided now was not the time for a makeover, and shaved quickly.

He was just pulling on his jeans when he heard a knock on the door. Swearing softly, he went over to the Judas hole and saw Rory. Again, almost despite himself, he smiled, and opened the door.

Rory's eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. She had been right: he as buff. She never really realized that she went for the buff type before. Dean had been kind of spindly. Strong, but spindly. But Jess…well, he worked construction. You had to be strong for that, right? Rory thought so. 

"Ah, come on in," Jess said. "Hold on…" He gestured with the shirt in his hand for her to sit down. She watched him as he pulled the button-down shirt over his shoulders and slowly buttoned it…She looked away before she began to feel like Miss Patty.

"So…" Rory began. "What are we gonna do?"

"You've got me," Jess said. "Unless Quentin or Quinn manages to drag me out I usually stay in and read. One time Sheila even called out of the blue to invite me somewhere."

Rory blinked. "Sheila? Who's Sheila?"

"Oh, that's right…" Jess said. "Uh…she was…Quinn's girlfriend."

"What happened to her?" Rory asked curiously.

"She dumped Quinn when she found out they were going to separate colleges. She said she wanted to 'find herself' or something like that. Which meant, to Quinn, that she wanted to date more."

"Yikes. That's kind of like why Dean broke up with me."

Jess shrugged. "I guess so."

"It's so weird, you know?" Rory said, scooting over to make a place for Jess to sit on the couch. "If I was at home, I could think of a million things to do. But here…I'm kind of at a loss."

"It's not your place," he said. "Not yet, at least."

"Yeah, and I haven't even looked my dad up," she said, sounding a little guilty.

"He lives here?"

"Well, a little suburb outside of Boston, but yeah. My little brother is there too, and I told Sherry that I would baby-sit sometime."

"Sherry would be your…stepmom?" Rory nodded. "Cool. How old's your brother?"

"He is…almost seven months now. Yeah, that sounds right."

Jess merely nodded. 

"You got any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope," Jess said shortly.

"Any family at all?" Rory asked, looking expectant.

"I've got family, yes," he said. "Hey, look! Here's the newspaper. Let's see what they've got listed in the local events section, shall we?"

"Why are you avoiding this issue?" Rory demanded.

"There's always movies," Jess said. "We've got about five theaters around here."

"Jess!" Rory said sternly. 

Jess dropped the paper onto his lap and looked hard at Rory. "Do you really want to know?" he demanded.

"Yes, I really want to know," Rory said.

"It's not exactly your family. But then again, it's really heard to be the modern-day Cleavers, complete with second marriages."

"My parents were never married," Rory said bluntly. "So for my dad it's his first marriage. Now you're avoiding the issue and trying to make me mad to boot, so why don't you just tell me what the hell your problem is!"

Jess scowled at her for a long moment before looking away slightly guiltily. "All right," he said. "I'll tell you." He took a deep breath. "I lived in New York City until I was seventeen. I did the usual crap: smoked, gambled, petty theft, staying out late, skipping school, all that basic junk. My mom eventually got sick of it. She had a lot of trouble coping with me after my dad walked out on us three years ago."

"Jess," Rory said, sorry that she'd pushed him to reveal this.

"Let me finish. So what my mom did is she sent me to live with my uncle, her responsible brother. She put me on a bus to Connecticut. I thought about it, and thought about it on the bus ride, and I was close to the town where my uncle lives when I decided to get off the bus. I just hopped right off, casual as you please, leaving a note in my seat, just in case, and walked to the next greyhound station. I got on another bus, and I got kicked off of that one for not having a ticket. Then I found another one I could sneak onto, and I ended up here in Boston." 

He stood and began to pace around his apartment. Rory watched him, staying silent, letting him gather his thoughts. "I stayed the first two weeks in the parks. I used gas station bathrooms to wash up in the mornings. I got a job at the construction company, and when I got my first paycheck I moved into a youth hostel. It only cost me fifteen dollars a night. I began saving money. Then one day Quentin came up to me on the job. He was asking about batteries for his CD player, but I didn't have any. Then I mentioned that I needed to find a good bookstore. He told me his sister worked at a really cool one.

"He drove me to the book store that afternoon, and I met Quinn. They invited me to go and see the Princess Bride at the Cheap Seats. The friendship kind of developed. I saved enough money in my checking account to get this apartment, Quinn and Quentin graduated high school, and we spent the summer together. Then I helped them move into their dorm rooms."

He sat down next to her again. "Then a few weeks later I was filling in for Quinn and a gorgeous brunette walked into the bookstore and started talking a lot and very quickly about a town called Stars Hollow, her mother, her mother's parents and her mother's boyfriend named Luke Danes." Rory blushed slightly, pleased with the compliment. Jess smiled slightly at that, but continued. "The bus I was on was bound for a little town outside Hartford. It was called Stars Hollow. My uncle's name is Luke."

Rory stared at him, uncomprehending for a long moment. Then she said in a hollow voice, "_You're_ Luke's nephew?" He merely nodded. "But…what? How is that— Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you deserve to know," Jess said, and raked his hands through his hair. "And…I like you. And it sounds like you really care about Luke. And I guess I was…curious. About the town, about Luke. About how he or my mom reacted when I didn't show up."

"Badly," Rory said. "When you didn't show up, he yelled at the bus driver for a while. Then he went to yell at my mom. He was really worried, Jess," she said chidingly. "I mean, he really yelled to my mom, not at her. He does that a lot, if he's worried or needs advice on something. My mom told him to calm down, and then he called your mom. She said she'd put you on the bus and that was the last she'd seen you. Then she told Luke not to worry: either you would get there, or you wouldn't. Either way, she was sure you could take care of yourself." Rory looked for his reaction, but he kept his expression neutral. "But Luke wouldn't let it go," she said. "He called the ticket office, and he called the bus station place. Finally, my mom convinced him that you did what you wanted."

"Jeez," Jess said, raking his hand through his hair. "I really didn't mean to cause that much trouble. I just…I wanted to get away, you know? To live life the way I wanted to, without anyone telling me what was right for me. I mean, can you imagine? I was ripped up out of my home, sent to live with a relative I wouldn't recognize if I passed him on the street, in a town that sounded like Pleasantville on uppers. I just snapped, and… How much do you hate me?"

"Why would I hate you, Jess?" she asked, knitting her brows in confusion. 

"For causing trouble. I don't know. You like Luke."

"I like you, too," she said.

"But you haven't known me as long," he said.

"It doesn't sound to me like you were out to hurt anyone," she said. "If you said you got off the bus purely out of spite, or just to make people worry, then I would hate you. But you didn't: you got off the bus because you were unhappy." Rory laid her hand over his. "If you're happy now, there's nothing more that me, or Luke, or your mom can ask for."

Jess looked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said back, then leaned over and kissed him. "Though I do have to wonder what impact you might have had on Stars Hollow," she said musingly after pulling away. "It might have been interesting to have someone else who reads as much as I do there. Well, besides Lane. But even she isn't as bad as I am. You, however, might just be worse."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Jess said. He raked his hands through his hair. "Quentin's of the opinion that I would have tried to make everyone miserable, but would have only succeeded in making myself miserable. I think he's probably right: I was so…pissed off. I hated everything."

"So what happened to change that?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Suddenly I had to worry about money, food, a place to sleep that wasn't a bench in the park. I just realized I had more important things to worry about than what could have been."

"Sounds like…being a grown-up," Rory said. Then she shuddered mockingly. "How horrible! Actually, this sounds terribly familiar to me. I mentioned that my mom ran away when she had me?" When Jess nodded, she continued. "Well, my grandparents were rich. My mom just got fed up with all of it one day, and walked out. She got as far as Stars Hollow. She had no job skills, she had no experience, and she had me to take care of. But the owner of the Inn gave her a job as a maid, and gave her an apartment behind the Inn to live in. My mom had to grow up, just like you did."

"I guess," Jess said. "I'm just glad I don't have a kid with me. That would have been really bad. I guess you really don't hate me, do you?"

"Nope. Well, unless you say you listen to Christian rock, in which case I'm outta here."

"What, you don't like gospel to electric guitars?" Jess asked with a straight face, then chuckled when she moved to stand. "I'm kidding," he said, then reached out and tickled her lightly. She squealed and spasmed, curling protectively over the side he'd attacked. "I'm not too grown up for tickle fights," he said playfully, and poked her other side. She squeaked a little, then reached out and dug her fingers into his side. He jerked, and fell to the floor. Rory began laughing at him, and he glowered half-heartedly up at her from his prone position.

"If you're going to start a tickle fight," Rory said, sliding in a controlled manner down to the floor, "make sure you can finish it." She attacked his bare feet, raking her nails along his sole until he kicked ineffectually.

He reached over and slipped off her sandal, tickling her foot as well. She jerked and squealed again and reached down to slap his hands away. He caught her hands and pulled her towards him. Her smile didn't fade as he pulled her closer, and she only banished it from her lips when he kissed them, gently. She braced her hands on his chest, feeling the muscles there, enjoying them. She caressed them, lightly, until Jess pulled gently away, his breathing faster than normal.

"I don't think this is the best idea," he said, staring at her mouth. "I mean, it's a wonderful idea, but we haven't even known each other a week. Let's find something to do outside the house, okay?"

Rory felt…disappointed. She was flashing back to the days before she and Dean broke up. Whenever she began to touch him besides his head or neck, he pulled away. It was as if…he was afraid of them being intimate. Was it because of her mother? Was she not pretty enough? Was she too naïve? Had she been doing it wrong?

Then she watched Jess lie back on his floor, visibly fighting to stay in control, and smiled. He did want her: she was sure of that. But he was right: they'd known each other for a grand total of…what? …four days? Her mother never moved that quickly, and her mother was the most sexual person she knew.

"Where's your paper?" she asked him, levering herself onto the couch.

He gestured vaguely, and Rory spotted it on top of his TV. She took it down and opened it to the local section to see what was happening around town. "There's a band playing at this square. Wanna go check it out?"

Jess looked at the address as she held the section out to him. "Yeah, sure. That's just a couple blocks from here."

"Great," she said, and headed for the door, Jess following closely.

*****

They hung out at every opportunity. Rory was sure enough of their friendship to ask Jess to come to Stars Hollow for the Christmas break.

"Come on," she wheedled him, watching him pace back and forth in his apartment. "Just come to Stars Hollow. Sookie will make enough food to feed the whole town, we'll pig out, open presents, have fun!"

"Just one problem there," Jess said. "My uncle is there. Remember? The guy I was sent to live with when I skipped out? The one who you said went nuts when he found out I went missing. Who was tempted to put out a missing person's report on me, but your mom convinced him that I was where I wanted to be? That uncle? The one who's dating your mother?" He raked a hand through his hair, clearly stressed at the very idea.

"What else are you going to do, huh?" Rory asked. "Sit around reading? Letting the most wonderful season of the year slip away outside your window? Jess, you don't even have a tree!"

"There's not enough space for a tree," he said, gesturing around his limited space.

"There's always room for a tree," Rory said. "But you won't need to get one if you take a vacation for once in your life and come home with me."

Jess yearned, but it sounded too good to be true. She was asking him home, to meet her mother and town, to see everything he'd missed by coming to Boston.

"Besides," she said. "I need someone to help me with my homework. Mom won't want to do it. Luke says he's not smart enough. You're the only one who knows what I'm talking about a lot of the time."

Jess smiled thinly at that. "I like helping you with your work," he said. "But that doesn't mean that I'm going to go to Clever-land for the holidays."

"Of course you are," Rory said, with an obvious Eureka! look on her face. "That's why you're arguing with me." She stood and faced him, halting his paces. "If you'd made up your mind not to go you'd either be avoiding the issue entirely, or you'd tell me to back off. Since you're not doing either of those things, it must mean that you're trying to make me say something to make you go, which would make it my fault if something disastrous happens. Not that I think anything bad will happen…oh, there'll be gossip for a while, and some awkwardness with Luke, but then you guys'll be talking up a storm."

Jess looked at her skeptically. "Well, not talking," she amended. "But you'll be communing silently with each other. So, you're coming! Yea!" She clapped her hand in delight.

"You still haven't said anything to make me go," he said, smirking a little. The smirk faded from his lips when she stepped closer and laid her palms over his chest. She smiled secretly at him, and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I can show you where Dean and I used to make out. I'm sure we can do better than that used to be."

They'd kissed many times since the day they'd gone to the concert for the first time (it had since become a monthly experience), but nothing really serious. Until now, when Rory stretched a little bit, sliding her arms around his neck and fitting her mouth over his, kissing him deeply.

His arms went to her waist, pulling her to him tightly as he kissed her back. His hands accidentally slipped inside her shirt, bringing him into contact with the skin at her waist. She sighed into the kiss, and slipped her hands down his front. The kiss dragged on and on, until slowly, loathed to end it, Jess pulled away, lips clinging until the last moment.

"How's that for persuasion?" Rory asked, eyes half-lidded, her smile sultry.

"Pretty damn good," Jess conceded, inwardly checking his pulse rate: elevated, but okay. 

"Good," Rory said, happy with that.

*****

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jess asked with rising trepidation as they left the busy streets of Hartford behind. 

"It's not like you to not try something," Rory chided him. "Besides, you need this. Come on, Jess. At least give it a chance. You can stay at the Inn if it gets too weird at our house."

Lorelai knew he was coming, and who he was. She had mixed feelings about it, mostly because she'd seen first-hand the worry he'd caused Luke. But she promised to keep an open mind about Jess. All Luke knew was that she was bringing a friend home for the holidays. He was a little leery of the fact that it was a male friend, but he wasn't in any official position to say anything.

"Look, uh, we gotta work some kinda signal out," Jess said.

"What do you mean?" Rory asked.

"It's just, I tend to get a bit…blunt when I'm nervous. I just want you to stop me from alienating people too much. A little bit isn't that bad, but…."

"I'll step on your foot if it looks like you're going to make a valiant effort to swallow it. How's that?"

Jess smiled. "That'll work. Just don't press too hard."

"Fine," Rory said. They chatted idly about nothing in particular until Jess saw the "Welcome to Stars Hollow" sign, with the date below the writing. He stopped in the middle of his sentence to gulp nervously.

Rory drove slowly through town, noting that absolutely nothing had changed: there was Miss Patty, in her typically flamboyant colors, there was Taylor, sweeping the sidewalk outside his store (where Dean was still working, though he'd been promoted), and Kirk…lurking. She pointed things out to Jess…or, rather, what was there to point out. He was smirking a little, his cynicism obviously restored a bit as she told him about the twinkle-light-guy's day, and all the other miscellaneous weird small-town things.

"I would have _hated_ it here," Jess said. "There's a mother and daughter dressed alike. That's just wrong."

"That's just Pricilla and Jane. They only dress alike when Jane doesn't feel like picking out her own clothes for the day."

"Do you know all these people?" Jess asked.

"Most of them," she answered before pulling into her driveway.

"So…," Jess said, after Rory stopped the car. The sudden silence where there had been engine noise was deafening. "Here we are?" he asked, gesturing at the house.

"Yeah. We had to have the foundation repaired a while ago. We had termites. That was frightening."

"I bet."

There was an awkward silence, neither knowing exactly where to go from here. "Well, mom's finishing her work day at the Inn soon, then she's gonna be home. Luke has un-officially moved in here, so…he'll be here after nine. That's if we don't go to the diner for dinner, which it's likely we will. So I guess we should get unloaded and set up." She opened her door.

"Uh, yeah," Jess said. He hated to acknowledge he was nervous. He hated being nervous: it was useless, and it made him act stupidly, recklessly. Though being nervous was part of what had propelled him off the bus, so he guessed it wasn't all bad.

They grabbed their stuff from the back and began lugging their bags up the front steps and into the house. Rory smiled when she realized that it hadn't changed either. She went and heaved her suitcase onto her bed. Jess followed her, a backpack over one shoulder.

He hesitated in the doorway, looking around, until he saw her crammed bookshelf and went over to examine it. "And you complained about the organization at the Reader's Rummage."

"It's perfectly organized," Rory said immediately. "They're sorted into types, alphabetical by author."

Jess looked at her for a long second before his lips twitched into a smirk. "I'll take your word for it," he said.

"Come on," she said. "I'll give you the grand tour of Stars Hollow."

An hour later, she'd shown him her elementary school, junior high, Kim's Antiques, Al's Waffle House, the book store, the gazebo, and the Independence Inn.

They stood outside the video store. "So…that was it? The grand tour?" Jess glanced at his watch. "One hour. Almost." He dropped his arm and laughed in amazement. "I _really _would have hated it here."

"But now?" Rory slipped her arm around his waist, and he moved his around her shoulders.

"Now I'm not being forced to live here, am I? It's a nice place to visit, and blah, blah." He looked at Rory out the corner of his eye just in time to see her gulp visibly. "What's wrong?"

"We're passing Doose's Market." Rory spoke flatly.

"What's that…oh," he said to himself as a man emerged from the store. A very tall man. He heard Rory curse under her breath, but she walked on bravely. The man didn't stop them, but did pause in his task of loading up a stand of oranges to watch them pass. "I take it that was Dean," Jess said mildly, glancing casually back over his shoulder. The guy was still watching them, and not in a friendly manner. He squeezed her arm slightly.

"Yeah. Bag boy, Luke used to call him, 'cause he used to be a bag boy at the market, you see."

"I gathered that," Jess said. "So where are we going now?"

"Luke's."

Jess froze in his tracks, and let Rory drag his arm for another step before pulling her to a stop also. "Nuh-uh," he said clearly, shaking his head. 

"Jess," she said forcefully. 

"Rory," he mocked her.

"You're going to have to meet him sometime."

"I've already met him," Jess said. "I was two."

"You're going to have to meet him as an adult."

"Yeah, right. He's just gonna look at me, and see the kid that skipped out on him, not to mention some vague resemblance to my parents." Jess turned on his heel and started to walk away.

"You'll get lost," Rory said. He merely raised an eyebrow at her over his shoulder. "It is possible to get lost in Stars Hollow," she said defensively.

"Only if you're really stupid, right?" he asked. He shook his head. "Rory…I can't, not now."

She sighed. "Fine. Go back to my house. But I want coffee, so I'm going in. I'll get it to go. We can watch a movie or something, while you work up your courage, okay?"

Jess merely nodded and began walking back the way they'd come.

As he was walking back, he heard someone ask, "Where's Rory?"

Jess turned to look. It was Dean, Rory's ex-boyfriend. "Why?"

"Curious," the guy shrugged, trying to look menacing. His hair flopped into his eyes, and he flicked it back impatiently. "So you're the new guy, huh?" he asked, and did a full-body appraisal, making it clear he found Jess unworthy.

Jess almost smirked. This guy was so obvious; he was almost worth pitying. "If I am, that would make you the old guy."

Dean nodded slightly. "It would also make you the rebound. The one she uses to get on with her life."

"Dean!" Rory said harshly from behind her ex. She stormed up, but kept her voice low. "How dare you! You broke up with me, remember? You have no right whatsoever to start harassing Jess just because you're upset."

"Rory," Dean sighed. "I've…look, I was a dope. I thought you going away to school meant you were leaving me behind. And I felt stupid."

"You're not stupid Dean, and I never made you feel stupid. That was in your own head."

"I know, I know. But, look. I thought…maybe if we saw each other again, then maybe we could…give us another try."

Rory reared back in surprise at the same moment that Jess stepped forward, obviously ready to do something violent. Her arm was the only thing that stopped him. "Jess…" she said pleadingly. "Not here. Not ever, but not here. Go back to my house."

"Rory," he said quietly to her. The sound barely carried. Then he sighed, and looked at Dean. He knew she wasn't going back to her ex, but that didn't mean he wanted to leave them alone. Together. He knew it smacked of the possessiveness Rory hated that he was jealous at the thought. After throwing one last glare Dean's way, he started off.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Rory said. "But it's not going to happen. We were good together for a while. But people grow up, grow apart. My going to school wasn't supposed to leave you behind, but it did anyway. Because you didn't want to go forward, and I did."

"But," Dean said, looking broken-hearted. 

"I can't, Dean. And I wouldn't. You hurt me when you broke us up. I suspect you hurt yourself more, though, and that's why I'm sorry that I'm hurting you now. But…I won't go back to you."

"Fine," Dean said. His voice was such a heart-breaking mix of anger and pain that Rory winced. "Go follow your college boy. Go and see how long that relationship lasts."

"Dean," Rory protested, and almost grabbed his arm before he jerked it away.

"Rory, if you say something lame like, 'We can still be friends,' I swear to god I'll do something I'll regret. Just do me a favor and go away. Again." He moved back into the store, leaving Rory standing on the street alone.

Jess jumped up from the couch when she entered her house. "So what happened to getting coffee?" Jess asked lightly, and watched her stalk over and sit down.

"I changed my mind," Rory said. "I didn't think I could talk to Luke without telling him who you were, and since I didn't think that would go over too well with either of you…You know, this situation really sucks from Luke's point of view. I mean, we all know, except him." Rory thought for a moment. "I really hope he doesn't get mad at my mom for holding this back from him."

"It's been killing me, actually," said a new voice. The door closed behind her, Lorelai walked into the room. Rory jumped up and ran to her mother, making her drop her purse to throw her arms around her daughter.

"Mom!" Rory said happily. Jess watched, fascinated, as the two women—both of whom he knew could talk people's ears off—were completely silent with emotion. After a minute, Lorelai pulled away, surreptitiously wiping her eyes.

"Well, let me look at you," she said. Rory stepped back obediently, also swiping her fingers under her eyes. "Ah," she finally said. "How did I give birth to such an incredible creature?"

"You should know: you repeat the story every year." 

Lorelai looked sad for a moment. "Yeah, except this year I had to do it over the phone." Then she quickly changed modes, but not before sniffling slightly. "So, this is Jess."

Jess pursed his lips slightly, nervous. But he nodded. "Jess Mariano, this is my mom, Lorelai Gilmore."

Jess stuck out his hand, and Lorelai looked him up and down while shaking. "Pleased to meet you," she said. "Now, when are you going to talk to Luke? I can't believe I've been able to keep this a secret for so long."

"Neither can I," Rory said. "You're terrible at keeping secrets."

"I can't help it if my natural inclination is to talk to people," Lorelai said. They moved to the living room area, and the Gilmores sat on the couch, while Jess took a chair. "You," she said, pointing at Jess. "Tall, dark, and silent. Say something."

"What do you want me to say?" Jess asked, somewhat belligerently.

"How about 'hello'?" Lorelai said, raising an eyebrow.

"Jess," Rory said quietly, warningly, and tapped her foot loudly.

"Uh, yeah," Jess said. "Hi. It really is nice to meet you."

"Thank you," Lorelai replied. "So, when are you going to talk to Luke?"

"I don't know," Jess said.

"Well, I think you should do it soon. But not before the diner closes for the day and we've gotten him away from knives and other sharp implements." Lorelai glanced at Rory. "He's had to deal with Kirk and Taylor a lot today." Rory nodded sagely. "But that means that… we order in food."

"Or you could go pick some up for us and bring it home. I've had a craving for coffee that I haven't been able to indulge yet. You could say we're tired from the drive down, or something."

Lorelai wavered. "Yeah. But…yeah, I guess I could. Okay. What do you want?"

Rory placed her order, then asked Jess what he wanted. "Anything at all. I'm not really that hungry, anyway, right now." His stomach was jittering at the thought of meeting his uncle.

Lorelai left to place the order, and Rory gestured for Jess to join her on the couch. As soon as he did, she leaned over and kissed him gently, and curled up against him. He leaned on her as much as she leaned on him, and hugged her to him. "You can do this, you know," Rory said, and tilted her head to look at him. "You can," she insisted when he only looked skeptical. "Luke is a wonderful man, and he's going to treat you like a human being. He may not understand, but he'll accept you for who you are, simply because he's Luke. You'll see. It'll all be okay."

"How can you be so certain of that?" Jess asked. "Are you really that optimistic?"

"I'm not optimistic; I know you and I know Luke. And believe me, you have more in common than you might think. And it's what counts: not superficial stuff. It'll be fine. You'll see."

They sat in silence for a few minutes more. "So what did Dean say?"

"Nothing really important," Rory said, feeling the slight tug at her heart, feeling the loss of her first love. "I hope he gets on with his life."

Jess bit his tongue before he could say something stupid along the lines of her messing it up for other girls. But it would come out corny, or sarcastic, neither of which it was. Instead, he merely sighed and pulled her slightly harder against him.

They sat in silence until they heard footsteps on the stairs outside. Rory jumped up to open the door, certain that her mom would be laden with packages of food. To her surprise, Luke stood behind her mom, and Rory backed up quickly, letting them file into the house.

She gulped nervously as she glanced back into the living room, where Jess had come to the small archway that marked the difference between the two rooms. Lorelai tugged Rory into the kitchen. Jess and Luke looked at each other for several long moments. Assessing each other, adult to adult. Man to man.

Finally, Jess broke the silence with an awkward throat clearing. "Uh, hi, Uncle Luke," he said lamely. He didn't know how to act. This was the man who would have willingly taken Jess into his home, tried to give him stability. But he'd needed to find his own stability, and he wasn't sure the man watching him intently was going to understand that.

"Hello," Luke said. "And it's just Luke."

"You don't look surprised to see me," Jess said. He looked towards the doorway. "I take it Lorelai told on me?"

"Yeah, she did. A while ago."

Rory looked accusingly at her mother. "I told Luke," Lorelai confessed unnecessarily.

"When?"

"After I hung up after you told me," she answered. Her daughter glared at her. "I couldn't keep that from Luke, hon," she said defensively. "It was too important. Besides, it gave Luke time to adjust to the idea. I told him everything you told me about Jess—well, not the girly parts, but the rest…."

Oblivious to the whispered conversation, Jess said, "And how do you feel about that?"

Luke shrugged, immensely uncomfortable talking about this. "I guess I can't really do anything about it, now can I?" Jess shifted, but nodded. Finally, Luke gestured towards the kitchen. "I hope you like fries, because Lorelai ordered a ton. Like always," he added darkly. 

Jess wanted to smile, but didn't think it was quite the time for that. "I love fries." They moved into the kitchen together. 


End file.
